My Traveling Cloak
I'm not entirely sure there are words to record what I feel at the moment, but as I look back over the past month in as strange a mood as I am, I feel compelled to make the attempt.
The end of the semester was uneventful, in a way. There was of course much last minute cramming, as there were many trips across campus to turn in last minute scraps of extra credit, or argue with TAs about grades that had mysteriously "vanished". The last three days are all a blur, with a total of about six hours of sleep between them all, but I did what needed to be done with a surprising ease. I find it curious now, how it was during the highest period of stress in the semester that I was the calmest, seeming to glide through the situations I found myself in, unperturbed by the relative chaos around me. I really must learn how to do that at will, especially with organic chemistry and three other sciences on the horizon.
As I write this, I realize that most would look at my winter break thus far and consider it rather bland. I somehow managed to pick up a rather erratic sleeping pattern (well, more so than is usual for me). Combined with people's work schedules, this limited the number of times I was able to see my close friends, people I've been looking forward to seeing again for months, and even cut the time I spent with my family to a few hours a day. And yet, a part of me is glad it happened, because with little else to do, I turned to reading the books people had given me for the holidays.
And oh! what gems I found! I stand now four volumes and over 1400 pages later, and I've rediscovered a part of myself I'd forgotten was there. Perhaps it was the subtlety of the last author, winding such great love and such monumental loss into the final chapters of an epic 900 pages of adventure, with a pen nearly as believable as my own memory, that sparked into existence the mood which makes so light of my troubles. Truly, I'd forgotten Aristotle's catharsis. I'm sure I'll look back on this and think I was being over-dramatic, but to feel this way again! It's as if a hundred sorrows pressed their way into my breast, and under the sheer pressure a star of unimaginable white brilliance ignited. To laugh in the face of all fears again! To see the joys in the mundane! To be free of the weight of the world!
If only for a moment. For I know that these silly, over-dramatic moods will fade quickly back into the routine of normal life. And yet, in these rare moments of catharsis, my unexpected release, I know there is wisdom to be had. I remember that I am more than my daily rote, more than my fabrication of a personality, more than my quest to find peace in a lifestyle ill equipped to provide it. I remember that I am human, and I catch a glimpse of what that implies.
Even now, as I calm, I laugh at what I've written. But I let it stand because it is a deviation from the norm, and an important one at that. It's been a long while since a book has evoked this sort of emotion in me, and I must say, I feel as if I've just come out of a very long, and very much needed shower.
"For the light shineth in the Darkness, and the Darkness comprehendeth it not."
~Japlin
The end of the semester was uneventful, in a way. There was of course much last minute cramming, as there were many trips across campus to turn in last minute scraps of extra credit, or argue with TAs about grades that had mysteriously "vanished". The last three days are all a blur, with a total of about six hours of sleep between them all, but I did what needed to be done with a surprising ease. I find it curious now, how it was during the highest period of stress in the semester that I was the calmest, seeming to glide through the situations I found myself in, unperturbed by the relative chaos around me. I really must learn how to do that at will, especially with organic chemistry and three other sciences on the horizon.
As I write this, I realize that most would look at my winter break thus far and consider it rather bland. I somehow managed to pick up a rather erratic sleeping pattern (well, more so than is usual for me). Combined with people's work schedules, this limited the number of times I was able to see my close friends, people I've been looking forward to seeing again for months, and even cut the time I spent with my family to a few hours a day. And yet, a part of me is glad it happened, because with little else to do, I turned to reading the books people had given me for the holidays.
And oh! what gems I found! I stand now four volumes and over 1400 pages later, and I've rediscovered a part of myself I'd forgotten was there. Perhaps it was the subtlety of the last author, winding such great love and such monumental loss into the final chapters of an epic 900 pages of adventure, with a pen nearly as believable as my own memory, that sparked into existence the mood which makes so light of my troubles. Truly, I'd forgotten Aristotle's catharsis. I'm sure I'll look back on this and think I was being over-dramatic, but to feel this way again! It's as if a hundred sorrows pressed their way into my breast, and under the sheer pressure a star of unimaginable white brilliance ignited. To laugh in the face of all fears again! To see the joys in the mundane! To be free of the weight of the world!
If only for a moment. For I know that these silly, over-dramatic moods will fade quickly back into the routine of normal life. And yet, in these rare moments of catharsis, my unexpected release, I know there is wisdom to be had. I remember that I am more than my daily rote, more than my fabrication of a personality, more than my quest to find peace in a lifestyle ill equipped to provide it. I remember that I am human, and I catch a glimpse of what that implies.
Even now, as I calm, I laugh at what I've written. But I let it stand because it is a deviation from the norm, and an important one at that. It's been a long while since a book has evoked this sort of emotion in me, and I must say, I feel as if I've just come out of a very long, and very much needed shower.
"For the light shineth in the Darkness, and the Darkness comprehendeth it not."
~Japlin